White as Snow and Green as Spring
by Ari Sky
Summary: An insight into the mind of Nina Tucker. This was a story for my RPG site's second writing contest. It took second place.


"**White as Snow and Green as Spring"**

As she came into consciousness, Nina's mind registered warmth, weight and wetness. As this was normal to her, it took a few more groggy minutes before the small girl realized Alexander had decided to lay on her sometime during the night and was now licking her face. She rubbed the sleep from her brilliant blue eyes and rested a hand on the loyal dog's head. "Good morwning, Alexandwer," she yawned, smiling at him. The soft wuff the dog offered in return had come to be his customary good morning to the young child and mad her grin widen.

"I bet you'rwe hungwy, boy. Why don't we go see what we can find fowr bweakfast, okay?" Nina suggested, completely comfortable voicing her thoughts to the dog. As the only living being she interacted with on a daily basis—her father was always home, but there were many days she didn't see him at all—Alexander was her support. He was there for her as her father couldn't be, as other children her age should have been. Her situation had caused her to become the most responsible pre-schooler anyone could ever hope to find. Often times she had to take care of not only herself, but Alexander as well.

But she didn't blame her father in the least.

After struggling under the weight of the cream-furred dog sprawled across her middle for several moments, Nina began furiously scratching behind one of his ears, a well-known favorite place. Alexander's tongue lolled from his maw as the massage woke him fully. Finally, satisfied with the bribery, Alexander leapt off the bed and shook himself from nose to tail, sending loose fur flying everywhere, which could be seen in the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, before barking happily—once—and wagging his tail at Nina. The girl giggled her delight in response as she threw back the covers and got out of bed, stepping directly into her fuzzy slippers to keep her bare feet off the cold floor.

It was prominently winter and the white scene just beyond her window proved this. Snow had fallen again during the night, coating the yard in the frozen powder that would no doubt provide hours of entertainment that very day. Nina pulled the curtains back more than they were, drenching her room with winter sunlight and instantly brightening her already shining mood. There were footprints through the fresh snow already—her father had gone out to get the morning paper. Nina suppressed a squeal of happiness and pulled a robe on over her flannel pajamas before heading down to the kitchen to make breakfast for herself and Alexander.

She already knew it would be one of those days she didn't see her father at all.

In the kitchen, Nina found her stepping stool and moved around to the various cabinets in order to find the things she needed. The cereal was on the top shelf of a cabinet because that was where her father kept it. It didn't cross her mind to move it to a more accessible location; she just braved the chance of it falling on her and left it on the counter when she was finished with it—it would be put away by the next morning. Next was the bread, but as it was on the counter in its box, posed no threat. Last were t he milk and jam from the cold box. Nina fixed her bowl of cereal and spread the jam on her bread, and then left both sit as she poured a dish of dog food for Alexander.

"Thewre you go, boy. Eat up! We've got a lot of fun befowre us today," she smiled, rinsing out his water dish before refilling it and placing it next to him.

Once they were both done, Nina washed her dishes and left them to dry, leaving the dog's dish on the floor for his evening meal. The child headed back to her room to find something to wear for the day. Apparently her father had done laundry last night; there was a stack of freshly folded clothes on her desk. Nina busied herself for a few minutes putting them where they belonged before selecting a warm, light pink turtleneck and insulated blue snow pants to wear. The snow beckoned and would not be denied for much longer.

Once dressed, the young girl entered the bathroom to brush her teeth and long, wavy brown hair. She wasn't as good as her father at braiding hair, so when she left, the braids were uneven with small tufts sticking out at random intervals. They were by no means glamorous, but they got the job done and kept the silky locks out of her eyes. Alexander had been waiting obediently at the door the whole time, waiting for the cue that they were going outside. It was routine for the dog as much for the girl.

"Okay, Alexandwer! Let's go have some fun!" She declared triumphantly, proud that she once again managed to get herself prepared for another day successfully.

She no longer acknowledged the pain that she couldn't share these accomplishments with her father.

Buckling the snug snow boots over her feet, Nina opened the front door to her very own white utopia with glee. The last snowfall had been hard corn snow—like hail almost—and not fit to play in. This snow was perfect and hadn't even started to melt into slush yet. It was ideal snowman-making snow, as well as snowball-fight snow, but with the severe lack of children to play with, Nina didn't know this. Nonetheless she was content as she flopped down and made a snow angel, with Alexander's version of one directly next to hers.

Then it was snowman time.

She had remembered to bring buttons, a scarf, a carrot, and a pipe outside with her to ensure her snowman would have plenty of personality. Nina laid these things on the doorstep so they wouldn't get lost and began constructing her snowman. The first and largest ball was carefully rolled and placed by the front gate. She figured he could greet anyone who came to visit them, as there were always important-looking men in military uniforms dropping by to visit her father. Nina smiled while she worked, singing a nonsense song to keep her spirits up. Alexander intermittently attacked snowdrifts, biting many of them only to discover the small shrubbery he knew all too well when it wasn't covered in the freezing white substance. Every once and again Nina would look up from her work and laugh at the dog, vastly entertained by his antics.

Before long the third and final ball was done and Nina carefully picked it up, and, standing haphazardly on her tippy toes, placed it precariously on the top of the other two, forming the head and completing the hardest part of her snowman. She fell back into the snow and clapped her hands joyously, surveying her work with a sense of accomplishment. She sat there a while longer catching her breath before gathering the other materials from the porch. With a grin she recalled last winter when Alexander had stolen the carrot several times and eaten it before she had managed to teach him to 'leave it.'

With an artist's precision, Nina placed two of the buttons on the top ball for eyes and then painstakingly positioned the carrot a few centimeters down directly between the eyes. Taking a few of the smaller buttons, a mouth with a warm smile appeared, completed with a pipe. Next the scarf found itself wound around area where the second and third balls met with one end hanging down in the front and back. Her growing smile faltered when she realized she didn't have any branches for arms.

"Oh, butterscotch," she trailed off, trying to come up with anything she could use. Then an idea made itself known. "Alexandwer! Fetch, boy!"

The dog looked up from his most recent mouthful of bush and cocked his head in confusion for a moment. Before Nina could have blinked, Alexander released the shrub and tore across the yard, nose to ground, obviously searching for something. He suddenly froze and then just as quickly as he had taken off, started pawing aside the snow to get at the ground. Within a minute or so, there was a pile of dirt forming on top of the snow. Letting out a happy wuff, Alexander pulled a rough chewing bone out of the hole and brought it proudly to Nina before racing back and retrieving another. Extremely efficient, the dog finished by covering the hole again, leaving only a small patch of brown-tinted snow.

Nina smiled and hugged Alexander, grateful he buried things in the yard still, even though her father had tried to make him stop. Convinced she now had everything she needed; Nina got back to work on her snowman. "Thank you, Alexandwer. My snowman won't be cwippled now."

After surveying the bones with much turning over and inspection, Nina stuck them in the sides of the middle ball, one angled down and one angled up in greeting. These were followed by an imperfect line of mismatched buttons down front and center, completing the welcoming snowman image. Once again, Nina was proud of her work and allowed herself to stand back and admire it for a short while. The construction had taken a good portion of the morning and the sun was now high above her in the sky and was surprisingly warm. The snow still on the ground was starting to fade to slush. Satisfied, Nina brushed the snow from her knees and mittens, sending her own personal snowstorm cascading towards the ground.

With a final glance and a nod of approval to her work, Nina decided it was time to head inside for warming up and lunch. She called for Alexander, who had disappeared after bringing her the bones. A minute or two passed and she called again. "Alexandwer! It's time to go inside, boy! Come hewre!"

Finally the familiar jangle of tags accompanied by the sound of paws pounding on frozen earth told her he was coming and she waited as the dog raced around from the side of their home. What she didn't realize until it was too late was that the feather-brained dog had forgotten he'd moved his bones. Excited by the sight of them displayed so temptingly in the air, Alexander continued barreling down his crash-course with the snowman. A moment later and it was over. In an explosion of snow and buttons, the dog reclaimed one of his bones and stood in the middle of the heap, wagging his tail with elated, simple abandon at his young mistress, who had tears in her eyes.

She didn't need to say or do anything more. Alexander knew he had done something bad and upset her and his tail slowly stopped wagging and drooped down. He whined and slunk over to her, nosing her hand gently to express his apology. Nina sniffled several times and used her free hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. The other hand subconsciously intertwined itself into the dog's shaggy fur, something she always found comfort in. "Bad dog, Alexandwer. Now—" she sniffed a few more times before swallowing the hard lump in her throat that allowed her to continue. "—now who's going to gweet Daddy's g-guests?" Alexander whined again and nosed her hand a bit harder, truly sorry for causing her grief.

Nina hiccupped once and sighed, the last of her sniffling gone, though her eyes were still moist. She found the carrot, pipe, and scarf and saved them from the mound of snow. She also managed to recover several of the buttons, although she knew there were many more that wouldn't be found until spring when the snow melted completely. With a final glance at her ruined masterpiece and a new resolve to create another one when more snow fell, Nina turned and headed back in the house, Alexander close on her heels. Maybe her father would come outside and help her then. The snow always seemed to do exactly what he wanted it to. No matter how hard she tried, she could never seem to make one as fast or as well as Shou.

A blast of pleasantly warm air hit girl and dog as they came in out of the brisk almost-afternoon-air. It was welcomed and brought rosy patches to Nina's cheeks. She left her wet snow boots, coat, and mittens by the door to dry so that they wouldn't drip through the house. She wasn't old enough to do the cleaning, but understood that someone had to and tried to keep messes to a minimum. She wandered back to her room and changed, leaving the snow-dampened clothes in her hamper. By this time, it was lunch time, and Nina's stomach was starting to growl.

"Time for lunch, Alexandwer, come on!" She called for the dog, knowing he was never far from her. As expected, he came bounding up to her, his shaggy coat still glistening with water. "Good boy." She murmured as they made their way to the kitchen.

There were sandwich components laid out on the counter already and Nina knew she had just missed her father. She found her stool and began making her own sandwich. She usually made one sandwich every two days, only eating a half of it each day. What she enjoyed the most, however, was when her father made grilled-cheese sandwiches for them both. When they shared lunch, that was what he always made. Just thinking about those pleasure-filled afternoons brought a wide and child-like smile to her face.

Nina settled down in her play room with her sandwich and turned on the radio. It was set to a child's station, and jubilant music instantly flooded the room with a hollow feeling of happiness. She was quite young to be drowning her displeasures in artificial cheerfulness, but it was the only way she could find to cope at her age.

Lunch was an uneventful affair and Nina proceeded directly into her next activity, coloring. She had quite the collection of drawing utensils—crayons and markers, pencils and pens, chalk for the warmer months, the list was endless. There was no planning as she delved into the pad of paper, letting her hand do as it pleased. Hours passed in the blink of an eye; after a while even Alexander succumbed to an afternoon nap, leaving the girl and her paper to their own world.

It was growing dark when Nina's first yawn brought her out of her trance to look at her art. Most were meaningless doodles of images her mind inspired; some were strange-looking deformed creatures that seemed to have come out of a horror story, and there were some that were clearly portraits. Herself, Alexander, and her father were familiar enough to remain constant, but there were many others that seemed to follow general guidelines but varied each time. It was these portraits Nina reflected upon most, trying to place the face in her mind's eye. The mental image always seemed to lack a face, but she knew _who_ it was supposed to be.

The woman in the mystery pictures was her mother.

Still trying her hardest to give a face to the body, Nina fell asleep there on the floor, crayons and paper spread out three hundred and sixty degrees around her. The face remained elusive and just beyond her grasp, even in her dreams.

The next morning she would wake up in her bed with Alexander on top of her. Snow would be piled high in the yard, burying her demolished snowman. There would be two young, unexpected visitors that would give her plenty of attention during their extended stay. It would be her first glimpse at what the rest of the world was like, and her last.

But for now, she slept, completely unawares.


End file.
